The Quitaran
by InkHarBour
Summary: It's been six years since Paul Lahoute's disappreance from La Push reservation. What was he running away from?
1. Prologue: The Quitaran

Author's note: Please note that all Originals characters are owned by the author and that Twilight characters belong to Stephanie Meyer, this story is not written for financial gain. All stories written by Inkharbour for fanfiction are for recreational purposes only.

Hello, everyone( or anyone who is reading this)

This is my first fanfiction story, I've been reading fanfiction for 3 years and have finally plucked up the courage to write my own story. The purpose of this note is to explain that there are many original characters and the story begins with a lot of them and slowly incorporates characters that readers will be familiar with, however the main characters are twilight characters, so please don't get confused. Oh and Forgive me please if the seasons and times are slightly different from the norm, I'm from the southern hemisphere our seasons are of course different but I tried to be as accurate as possible. Perhaps I should also include all the warnings or tags as I prefer to call them. wolves with abilities, imprinting, includes dom sub pregnancies which means mpreg, bashing of certain characters and it doesn't really follow the twilight plot so I guess a little AU-ish.( the wolves also age a lot slower so their actual age is like 10 years older than their age suggested by their appearances) . I think that's it so.. I hope you enjoy it and please I would love as much feedback as possible.

Regards

Inkharbour

Prologue: The Quitaran

The Quitaran tribe, a small population of 1 700 people, nestled inland between Toronto and Ontario in a town called Otahan. Otahan, a small town with a total population of 3 500 people, a local vernacular of Canadian French, the community is small and enjoys a nostalgic country lifestyle afforded by the beauty of the area. The town is self-efficient, optimizing on it's abundance in natural resources whilst still respecting nature's ever so delicate balance. The history of the town is somewhat simplistic in that the Indians migrated to Canada in search for better land and settled here which is why the founders of the town are all Quitaran families however the origins of this tribe are unknown. Otahan, in summary is a small town of no historical significance and no functional significance. Just an upstart drowsy urban-village that is nestled in the pocket of land that resembles the tundra version of the garden of Eden. But that's to the pale faces, to the tribe Otahan and it's Otakwa mountain is their homeland away from their Quileute origins. The founding families the Merazs', the Hunters' and the Trentons' are the backbone of their community and the real history of the tribes' roots lies in mysticism, folklore and legends.

Hector Meraz, woke slowly feeling the chill of the morning, which could only be felt in the absence of his bedmate. A small frown forms on Hector's sleep ridden face, with a silent mental sigh, he uses his hand to test his hypothesis and it retrieves air and cold sheets, proving what he already knew to be true. Hector understands his bedmates' occasional need to be awake at the crack of dawn but that didn't mean he had to like it, with an exaggerated huff as if exhaling for an audience he stumbles into the adjacent bathroom, groping blindly for the light switch on the wall. When his hand connects with hard plastic, the lights illuminate the spacious bathroom as Hector enters. Yawning lazily, the cobwebs of sleep and dreams in his mind that spun themselves dizzy in his sleep, are wiped away when his face comes into contact with warm water, washing his face Hector's mind begins to quickly bring itself up to speed, His nose registers the smell of delicious foods and lots of it, his ears note the sound of voices chattering and the buzz of conversation and laughter, _"Merde. What is going on down there?"_ perplexed Hector racks his still sleep haggled brain to explain all the activity going-on downstairs. The 10th December his brain supplies simply. _Oh yes! The 10__th_, the man staring at Hector through the transparent glass, chuckles quietly at the realization making his laugh lines and crows feet more pronounced and his greying hair adds to the aged but decidedly still attractive look, his mouth is pulled up in one corner in a small smile. _At the family reunion_. He whistles an unknown tune that is born out of his own invention breaking the monotony of his daily grooming routine.

Meanwhile 2 stories downstairs, the kitchen is bustling, the thick heady aroma of home cooked food permeates the air, the open plan kitchen's black granite tops are overflowing with eats and treats. The stove and the oven being worked to their functional limits by their harsh task masters Mr. Hunter, Mrs Trenton and Mrs Meraz. The task masters all planning and plotting more tasks as the stream of people entering the house flows continuously. They sit, stand and arrange themselves around the furniture in the informal lounge. They are litter the spacious living space in social circles that vary in size and some more decorate patio outside, the males' barbequing, laughing and catching up. A small group of children playing some infantile game outside. The happy atmosphere in the air carried lightly by the slight breeze from Otakwa as if agreeing with the festives. One of the task masters the youngest and fairest of the three, Elizabeth Meraz looks at the stairwell as her father-in-law steps down the stairs, dressed in black pants, black loafers, a white knit with a deep blue cardigan underneath peaking through the v of the knit, moving with a grace and energy that belies his age and his face adorned with a big warm smile; " Morning, everyone, " he greets cheerfully in his gruff voice, the ocean of faces almost simultaneously replies cheerfully in various tones and timbre of voices. Elizabeth's thin lips quirk into a smile as he steals a muffin from the basket on the counter top of the island and returns the greeting shyly but just as cheerfully " Bonjour Monsiuer Meraz" " it's Pere Lizzie," he corrects her gently and takes a generous bite of his muffin and moans appreciatively " So you like them?" she asks anxiously wiping her hands on a dish cloth as she starts to serve him breakfast, Hector occupies the closet stool as he answers " You made them? They nearly taste like Pups" he says in surprise, she nods enthusiastically " Oui, it is Mere recipe, he was showing me, how to do it when just before he left this morning, I hoped that they tasted right" she explains as she hands him a plate filled with a hearty breakfast.

Hector doesn't even blink at the portion size and digs in but not before replying with " oui they do taste right, a little better even, " he compliments. His voice drops to a consipirital whisper "but don't tell Pup I said that". He winks at her and continues eating. Slipping into his earlier musings about the festives, the annual comeration of the Quitaran that celebrates the tribe's customs and traditions. _Pack meetings, Bonfire, storytelling, learning about the pack and inducting a new alpha, So proud that Ezra has finally decided to take over...At 42 I thought he would never. _Hector laughs internally at his son's stubbornness as memories hazily collect in his mind and bring him fond recollections of past gatherings. _Always such a lovely time.._

Shaking his head lightly, his focus returns to this morning's worry " did he say where he was going?" he says between mouthfuls. " No he didn't say, but said he'll be back soon" Elizabeth replies as she dives into the large pantry,. Hector's worry on the whereabouts of his spouse increases slightly from not seeing him anywhere in the perimeter. His eyes scan the house again and retrieve exactly what his hand this morning did: nothing.

_It's unusual for him to be gone so long, I wonder where he could be? _Hector wonders through the last bites of bacon and toast, he doesn't wonder for long because the heavy oak wood door opens to reveal his enormous 7 foot, curly haired son and his beautiful husband Nicholas, who's usually smouldering storm grey eyes were light and dancing with mirth.

Alpha Ezra Meraz smiles as his eyes scan the house fleetingly registering the presence of his extended family and land on his wife and father who are talking quietly he smiles at this. " Piere, guess what I've brought you" he says as he gets' closer, bringing the mountainous amount of luggage with him effortlessly. Hector smirks " Bags mon fils? how lovely" Hector jests, Ezra rolls his eyes at his father as he reaches the kitchen counter pulling his wife into his arms, " I was talking about-" But doesn't get to finish his sentence as his little sister Tatiana ever the melodramatic explodes onto the scene, " Pere,Pere, Pere! Mere I'm home!" she calls comically from the door. Hector laughs at his daughters' antics and rises to meet her. " Tiana ma peitie fleur, I have missed you." He hugs her and kisses her forehead. Behind her more of his family enters his 2nd eldest Liam who is walking with Bruce-Tatiana's mate- and his lastborn Mala'Khai laughing quietly at his nephew Logan's joke and his eldest grandson Paul. Hector's smile widens as he sees his family in its entirety. The family greets with joy, bear hugs, kisses, laughs, and coos of concern -all from Nicholas complaining about his babies being too thin-

Whilst his children are settling in and stowing the luggage, Nicholas moves into his husbands anxious waiting arms, feeling the slight strain and worry etched on the corners' of Hectors face disappear, as he nears him. "Missed you" Hector whispers into Nicholas' ear. Nicholas smiles at him and kisses his lips in silent greeting and apology feeling a smidge of guilt at his husbands worry. Turning in his husbands arms so he's facing all his children, he takes a brief moment to look at all of them. Ezra, his firstborn, is flirting with his wife in the kitchen. As if sensing the stare Ezra looks up at his mother at winks at him. Nicholas's eyes travel a short distance to his 2nd eldest, Liam in conversation with Bruce, his charismatic personality, quick wit and humour that mirrors his elder brothers often makes people think that they are twins because they look similar in body structure and height except that Liam is slightly shorter and has stormier grey eyes and straight, hazelnut hair which is from himself whilst Ezra's is a curly inky black that matches his Piere's hair. Nicholas eyes move next to his princess, Tatiana, her beautiful heart-shaped face, dark grey eyes, soft caramel skin which spoke of her Quitaran heritage and reddish brown glossy wavy mane, make her truly beautiful like an exotic gem. She is talking animatedly to Logan, using her hands that express herself, clear evidence of her melodramatic character. Nicholas's eyes wonder around again until they land on Mala'Khai his lastborn, his pale silvery eyes spoke of an intellectual with intense and passionate soul, that gives him maturity that way surpasses his actual age and aura that demands respect not because of physical dominance like his brothers –of which he is the smallest, at 6'2 - but because of his character. Mala'khai is speaking quietly with his adoptive son Paul.

Paul Lahote- who's now Meraz- of the Quileute, Nicholas smiles as he looks at his adoptive grandchild, he hadn't physically changed at all in the past 5 years he's been with them. His skin still its rich russet hue that spoke of his Quileute origins, silver eyes that are much like Mala'khai's which leads people to believe that Paul was really his biological son. Thinking back to when Paul first came to them. Although physically he'd changed very little but emotionally and mentally he'd undergone a mini transformation. he's demeanour is happier, no longer so angry, still has a short fuse but no longer so aggressive and vindictive although his experiences left him irreversibly jaded –the pain still evident in his off-standish attitude and posture- but he was better, nearly whole again. Nicholas smiles at the adorable father-son moment and leans back into his mate feeling that everything is perfect for festive to begin or is it?


	2. Chapter 1: Death's Call

Chapter 1: Death's Call

Mala'khai's POV

I sighed happily watching my son interact with his uncle Logan. I watch them as I near the kitchen to grab some lunch for myself observing their interaction with each other, although Logan is much older than Paul but the two still interact like brothers, they guffawing loudly at some crude joke Paul's told. I smile inwardly unaffected by the crudeness in the brand of slapstick comedy that Logan and Paul subscribe to. Having lived with it for almost 3 years now it's become a customary ear-chime. Pulling up a bar stool next to Logan I greet them with "You know what they say about toilet humour Paul.. Logan" chided them gently.

Paul looks at me, amusement in the silvery eyes that are surprisingly identical to mine even though there is not a strip of DNA we share it makes our story of father and son more believable even with the smaller-than-usual age gap. " Yeah, tell that to my degree in Mechanical Engineering Pops" he snorts engaging in his food animatedly. Logan returns a snort and eye rolling in reply. I shake my head at them and seat myself whilst enjoying the picturesque view of the Otakwa Mountain offered by the backyard and getting lost in the pleasure of the view, my thoughts drift slightly. _Home again, the nostalgic scenery and atmosphere of this place always evokes a scene of peace and wonderment without being so foreign that it loses the sense of belonging and homey-ness. It's been so long since we've been here, cannot believe another year has passed. So much has changed, Ezra has taken his place as Alpha, unsurprisingly with Liam as 1__st__ Beta and Gordon Trenton as 2__nd__ Beta. The celebrations of a new Chief and Alpha have been vivacious to say the least, I've never seen Ezra so happy and Elizabeth, the ever-blushing Elizabeth sprinkled more merriment to the events by announcing her 2__nd__ pregnancy. The whole week has been a gala of gleeful smiles and laughs. _Shaking my head out of my happy thoughts smiling brightly at my mother as he gently places a large bowl of my favourite salmon pasta dish in front of me.

Moaning at the delicious perfection of my mother culinary skills I say " Mother have I told you lately how much I adore you?" He snorts lightly as he clears up the other dishes on around the table where Tatiana –the damn early bird- and Bruce must have been eating since half the food is still on the plate.

He turns to me with a smile on his face "Flattery will get you nowhere my poodle." He teases right back but his use of the dead nickname makes Paul look over at us from his side of the table.

"Poodle?" he asks already snickering at me. I sigh in mock offense but smile internally at my son's laughter fills the room even if it is at my expense just when I thought the hideous nickname would be forgotten Logan joins in the 'fun' saying " Oh gods I remember that was..." he clicks his fingers trying to remember and then his face lights up as he remembers. "When Tatiana made you wear dresses and make up! She named you poodle!"

Paul and Logan cackle harder. I look at my mother with a 'see what you've done now?' expression he just looks at me innocently and says " Aww come on poodle,you were quite cute. Hey Paulie do you wanna see pictures" He pitches my cheek mockingly me playfully. I bat his hand away turning red in embarrassment.

"No mother you are not allowed to show puppy those god awful pictures but at least I wasn't named cupcake" I say. Paul pauses from his laughter and Logan barely holds it in. "who was cupcake?" I look at him and drop my voice to a whisper knowing that he will hear it even if he's at the other end of the table " don't tell him I said this because he'll kill me if I told you this but it was... Ezra" Paul's eyes widen in his mind I see him imaging the 7 foot mighty Alpha and trying to juxtapose this image with the image of a cupcake theme dressed drag queen he just laughs harder. I smile at him but am disturbed by angry words in someone's mind. I frown minutely and focus on the words and realize it's my father's mental voice. I focus a little more on it. It's a haze in my father's mind is due to his fragmented thoughts, jumping from one to the next with no coherent order. I look over at him to see if anything is wrong, he's frowning deeply and breathing heavily through his nostrils – a trait which all the Quitaran shape shifters adopt to stop from phasing or half-phasing on emotional impulse- He's pacing so much he's tearing up the grass under his boot-clad feet. The concern I feel deepens a bit as I focus a little more on his thoughts. _Paul's face, a tombstone and a whole lot of curses. That rings alarm bells. _I decide to stop snooping and ask him instead, rising from my stool and murmuring a quick "Thank you" to my mother for lunch, I walk onto the patio leading to the backyard intent on finding what has upset my usually composed father and what it has to do with my son. Climbing down the stairs at a brisk pace I reach him in quick strides.

" Piere" I say standing just a few feet away from him and watching him as he pauses his angry marathon pacing to turn to me. The look on his face is one of anger, sadness and deep worry, his mouth in a tight line so unlike his usual curved up line. He looks at me the same emotions whirling in his eyes, his posture rigid and angry.

"Mon Flis" he says brightly in attempting to mask his obviously decomposed state.

" Piere what has happened?" I didn't ask if something was wrong nor what's wrong because that usually leads to an evasive answer. I watched him exhale, his anger leaving him to be replaced with the deepening concern I was feeling.

" Lynch called me." He said ominously, Lynch? What would our family lawyer have to say about Paul? Because at this point I was damn sure it was about my boy judging by the consistent image of Paul's face in my father's mind but before I could comment he continued.

"Lynch was just doing a favour for an acquaintance that has been trying to contact us, Biers his name was." He pauses sucking in a breath again. I wait for him to continue.

" Biers's a state lawyer in Washington state in Forks, He called about settling Mr. J. Lahoute's debts and his funeral." He says in a half worried and half angry tone the worry and anger I knew where on behalf of my boy.

My first thought was _Paul, oh my god my poor boy_. My frown deepens and I digest the information with the same anger and unwilling acceptance my father has. My anger is driven by the unfairness of the situation, Paul's life has just started and his past his creeping up to destroy it again. I mentally cursed the gods for this sticky situation the only solace is that at least the stay at _that_ place will be temporary and begrudgingly accept it. All through my internal turmoil my father is watching me , mirroring my feelings in his thoughts both of us concerned about the main victim in the situation.

"How much did the debt amount to?" I ask distractedly still coming to terms with what I have to do now, I don't really care about the bill because I know my bank account will cover the debt and still appear unscathed.

"He said he can't discuss the details telephonically and that the funeral's on Wednesday and that Joseph asked,-no begged for Paul to be there" I'm not surprised at this knowing Joseph Lahoute even for the few weeks I had he was an utterly selfish prick.

My father says stiffly looking away from me to the laughing figure of Paul he can see through the big glass sliding doors and frowning at having to ruin that happiness. My breath sharpens a little that it's this coming Wednesday.. talk about a belated warning. My thoughts whirl, concern and anger playing in equally in mind wrestling each other whilst rationality tries to play referee. We look at each other pain in my eyes and the same reflected in my fathers'as well as deep parental concern, my heart sinks knowing that in the next 30 minutes that it will be my eyes mirroring my father's expression as I look at Paul. Piere smiles sadly at me.

_'You should be the one to tell him Mala'khai'_

_"_ I know" I exhale a long breath also breathing through my nostrils.

_' I'm so sorry mon fils, I don't like it as much as you if there was a way to protect him forever from his past. You know I would have found it'_

" Oui Piere, I know, I just wish it weren't now, he's just got comfortable in his own skin and .." My voice trails off thinking about my boy and the pain _that_ place will remind him of.

" Merde Piere this just ... "

_'I know mon fils, the only comfort I can offer is that we will support you as always poodle'_

I try to smile at his attempt to lighten the mood by using my childhood nickname but it comes out as a grimace.

" But why now Piere? How do I tell my son that..."

" Tell me what?" A new voice enters the conversation and I jump a little caught by surprise. Paul's always had an aptitude for stealth of the mind and body neither I nor Papa heard him. We look at him in the anxiety clear on our faces. Paul stands with his posture forever configured in defensive manner even in his most relaxed state of mind. He's wearing Levi jeans, and a white diesel T-shirt. His mouth is turned down slightly as he senses the tense mood of the conversation. His grey eyes that are similar to mine swivel between us and his frown deepens in his confusion and trepidation. I don't need to read his thoughts, the question is clear in his eyes.

'_You have to be the one to tell him poodle'_ Piere says as he walks away smiling reassuringly at Paul as he passes him with a quick hug. Paul's eyebrow's furrow as he watches his Grandpa's retreating back.

"Tell me what?" he verbalizes when he was actually asking '_ what's going on?"_

I sigh and make a gesture for him to come closer and sling my arm over his shoulders. He's at shorter than me and so the position is comfortable and allows me to comfort him without alarming him because I've rationalized that this was something I expected even if it was so soon. It's just the last tendrils of darkness surrounding my son until he's truly free from his past I hoped. Before he starts to panic I speak evenly composing myself.

" Puppy, there's something you need to know." I begin. I start to walk taking him with me in my stroll,

'_What is it Papa?' _ He asks again an edge of panic and worry in his mental voice. I squeeze him to reassure him.

" Your _fath-_ " I pause momentarily unable to denounce myself as his father and trying to ease the hatred out of my voice, it works somewhat. "_Joesph _Lahoute 's lawyer called and to inform you about the funeral and that he asked specifically for you to be there" I manage to verbalize the bombshell in an almost toneless voice hoping that calmness would cushion the blow.

I was wrong it didn't help at all. Memories that were dead and buried creep into Paul's consciousness and he starts to tremble but I know I have to continue in a voice as gentle as I can manage I say " He said that the funeral will be on Wednesday and that he would like to see us to clear things up" being deliberately vague to avoid adding to his worry, Paul didn't need the guilt and anger of knowing that a debt awaited him because truly it didn't I would take care of it as soon as possible but I had to give my boy options if it's one thing I _could _do to protect him from potential pain was give him an out option if he didn't want to go back to that backwater town but on the other hand perhaps this was the gods way of providing an avenue for the closure I know he needed. My problem was with if he was ready or not but I knew that wasn't my decision to make. I squeeze his shoulders in effort to ease his trembling.

" There are options Puppy, we don't have to go if you don't want to, you don't owe him anything... I know as difficult as it may seem it may be good for you to finally close that chapter in your book get the closure I know you need. However whatever you choose you know that I will be with you"

Truly I was in two minds about this in both solutions I wasn't sure if Paul would be unscathed, I didn't want him to go because I knew this would be a painful revisit and it may just pull him into his depression again and on flipside of the coin, I wanted him to go because begrudgingly Joseph, the bastard was still his father, I can't deny him the right to bury him. Paul's body shakes have increased and he abruptly pulls away from me looking angry and scared as he speaks in unadultred hatred and venom in his mental voice and verbal voice it takes me a minute to differentiate.

_'Good __**riddance **__the fucker'_ He thought but he says "I don't **fucking** _want_ to do this but... I know that'll regret it in the end if I don't. **FUCK HIM**! Why **_now _**goddamnit? Fuck **_everything _**was going so smoothly couldn't the bitch have died at another- No shit couldn't he have died and left me **_THE FUCK_** alone! _Motherfucking __**cunt**_ even in death!" He pauses from his tirade his chest heaving with years of pent-up anger. He looks me in the eye now a pleading edge his angry eyes "gods what will I do now Piere?" he breathes out venom in his voice but I know it's directed at Joseph. I sigh silently, I want him to decide this on his own because it his father and that only Paul will know if he's ready to face the haunted place of his past. I look at him, mentally kicking away the feeling of déjà vu because it's the same position I was in not 20 minutes ago just my role has changed.

" Pup, I will be with you whatever you choose, Although I hate to think about the potential pain it could cause but perhaps if we look at it more optimistically, this is your last obstacle then you can lay all the demons in the past to rest but Paul only you can decide whether you're ready or not" He nods his eyes closing as he pulls air through his nose to keep from phasing. I squeeze his shoulder with one hand and give him a parting reassuring smile. I walk away to give him his much needed time and space to think about this but his thoughts stop my retreat as I near the stairs leading up to the patio.

'_Tell Logan to pack as well'_ he says simply resonated acceptance and hesitation in his tone. I nod minutely knowing his wolf eyes can see the small motion.

Author's note: Hi everyone, hope you liked it. Oh and all mistakes please forgive me ( first timer) and if there's something wrong with the French, please correct me I don't mean to offend anyone. I'm just using google translate so.. Tell me what you think..


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